Stone Cold
by TheDarkandDisturbed
Summary: *DARYL/OC* *RATED M FOR LANGUAGE, CONTENT, AND GORE* I'm probably going to have a sex scene in this, and I'm still debating on putting it on Wattpad or here. Either way, you'll figure it out. This love story is slow, like it's meant to be. If you really can't handle that then bye.
1. Chapter 1

Never in my 27 years of living have I expected something so wretched to happen to such a dreadfully wonderful world. But once more as I looked out upon the desolate highways in a car that was running on fumes, I was slapped in the face with the hard evidence. This was real, this was life, and this was what I had to deal with until it was decided that I finally served my time and would be permitted death.

"We're going to have to start walking, Cleo, this car's suffering is getting too loud to be safe," I muttered, stopping the vehicle so the obnoxious roaring of the engine's everlasting death via gas starvation would cease to terrorize my ears. I looked over to Cleo, who had her eyes fixated on her sister—likely in silent conversation.

I didn't take the time to figure it out. I simply got out of the car and went around to the trunk to grab my weapons.

I'd taken my time in becoming an expert at throwing knives and archery, which were better, more silent ways to get the job done. I pulled up the loose white tank top I wore and attached the belt that secured my knives in place underneath, forcing myself to be okay with the strange texture of the fabric as it clung to my bare stomach. It was a hidden asset that I needed, whether it would be because I ran out of arrows or because we met up with some particularly hostile survivors. If I could avoid a risk, I was going to.

Cleo playfully bumped me aside, pulling me from my focus with a startled jump as reaction. She only smiled and handed over my bow and arrows. I secured the quiver onto my torso, positioning the opening on my left to suit my left-handed needs. It would be faster to draw that way.

Cleo secured her pistol at her left hip and her knife at her right, resting her shotgun against the car so she could assist Annabeth—or Annie, as Cleo called her—with gearing up. Annie had some of the weaker weaponry, what you'd give the child in your average hunting family—which I personally enjoyed. Annie was barely prepared to shoot a zombie down, and often fires away at nothing in particular—so I'd rather she waste the ammo for the shitty guns.

"Sun won't be out for long, we should find some cover," Cleo stated, her eyes fixated on the brilliant ball of fire millions of lightyears away from us. According to it, it was far past noon, which meant we needed to get situated for the night quickly.

"Don't forget the rest of the supplies, Annie," I muttered, as if that truly needed to be said. In reality, we don't have time for second chances—and I wasn't going to cheat my way into release by being an idiot. When I was ready to die, I'd truly die—and fighting for live was part of the punishment.

I checked our surroundings; a mass of cars creating a blockade on the highway but a few miles up the road—which meant a high risk for undead. The forest wasn't safe if you didn't take the right precautions, which we didn't have the supplies to create. So basically we'd be camping out in some abandoned cars for the night, maybe even enjoying some food that we haven't already scavenged.

"The cars are already shelter enough, so we just need to look for supplies and watch out for freaks."

Cleo nodded, offering to scout for freaks. I nodded, and told Annie to keep close to Cleo and look for food. Of course they did so, I had made her leadership prominent with my wild fearlessness since the beginning. I've never hesitated to take down a freak, and was always quick to pull Cleo, Annabeth, and myself out of awkward situations with other survivors. They've never questioned me, and I was grateful to have some loyalty in a world gone to hell.

I kept my bow readied, alert and ready to attack despite the need to focus on finding tonight's meal. The supplies bag had food meant for when we were stuck in the forest for a night, and this was the perfect location to follow such an idea. There was no way we wouldn't be able to find _something._

The sun slowly inched its way into the horizon, leaving us with a mauve, rose sky and a relatively large semi to camp out in. Our dinner consisted of granola bars and some freeze-dried bananas, which—in my opinion—had too much strange powder on it to be remotely enjoyable. But the apocalypse wasn't going to allow luxuries, and I forced my serving down anyways. Cleo helped me shut the back of the cargo hold, and we didn't bother wasting batteries on the flashlight. The southern Georgia night was chilly, our thin, fleece blankets not standing a chance against the cool walls of the cargo hold. We endured it, and I reached into my personal bag to pull out the locket. My fingers ran over the binky I'd laced the chain through, eyes slammed shut to force the slightest tear back as I remembered Evie's wonderful, laugh—the laugh that told you there were no worries inside that beautiful little mind. I fell asleep with that memory on my mind, allowing myself some solace with what used to be.


	2. Chapter 2

The sputtering of an engine was what brought us all to life.

I sprang up, eyes wide and truly despising myself when I slid the hatch open to see we'd slept through a lot of the day…

_Were we truly that tired?_

I stuffed my necklace into my personal bag, quickly scrambling to get my equipment on and leading the way out of sight. I didn't bother to check and make sure Annabeth and Cleo were behind me, I could feel their panicked breaths brushing across the bared skin of the back of my neck. I'd pulled my hair up while looking for supplies yesterday, and it truly seemed to fight its way through me tossing and turning into the night. I motioned towards the woods, my eyes set on a man—clearly well aged, judging from the stark white hair on his head—who looked around on top of his little RV… Possibly scouting…

Rustling sounded in the trees to my right, and I held back a grumbled response to air out my frustration. I kept my eye on the survivors, seeing them convene and became relieved with the fact that they didn't hear Cleo and Annabeth sneaking off. I watched them go through the cars, repeating a routine that myself and Annabeth worked through—though they were scanning around more thoroughly, ready to grab anything and everything that appeared to be of use. That, and they had a lot more range from the amount of people.

A male—possibly in his late 30s or early 40s—was getting too close to me for comfort, so I grabbed a chunk of asphalt big enough to get _someone's _attention and threw it as fast as possible, far away from me. There was a black man, bulky appearance and readied stance who picked up on the rock clattering to the ground. He called for the attention of the male, which gave me just enough time to slip into the woods.

"What took you so long?" Cleo was a little bit annoyed, as heard in her hurried whispers when I joined them just behind the brush. It was thick enough that we could stand and remain unseen, which was precisely what we did. I gave Annie the boost to assist her in climbing a tree, figuring that she'd have a better chance of keeping herself hidden and getting up faster with her naturally small form. Cleo and I stood at the base of the tree, Cleo keeping a lookout for the survivors and myself with my bow readied, staying prepared to shoot down any freaks.

"Uh, guys?" Annie murmured, her voice just a little bit louder than what I would've preferred. I gave her a dirty look for that, taking her silent reaction as apology before she pointed out past the brush and whispered;

"There's a horde working up the highway."

"Fuck" was the first words that slipped from Cleo's mouth, and I sighed in frustration. I told Annie to stay up in the tree, and brought Cleo further into the woods with me. If the horde remained on the highway—which was something we desperately needed to happen—we'd be fine here.

And to our extreme luck, only a few zombies had wandered into the forest. It was simple fir me to take them down, and all it took was three quick arrows to their heads. I removed the arrows from the corpses, wiping them off on the ground before returning them to my quiver—

Then, the voice of a panicked child ripped through the silence.

It was a sickening, shrill noise that rang in my ears and forced me to her Evie's cries once more. I gasped, really just stunned by the noise, and slammed my hands over my ears. I crouched to the ground, slamming my eyes shut and grinding my teeth together and willing it all to go away.

… _But I deserve this._

I broke through the tree line, gaining just enough time to watch a couple of men run after something before I had a gun pressed against my temple.

"If ya want to live, you'd best be gearing down," A man with black, curly hair and eyes void of any emotion said with all seriousness. I sighed, my nostrils flaring as I hoped that Annie and Cleo stayed behind. I did as he said, handing over my bow and arrows.

"A pleasure to meet you too, sweetheart," was my quick retort, and it was enough to have him showing signs of anger—which it wasn't as if it mattered. Shooting me would be doing me a favor.

"Lemme ask you somethin', _sweetheart_," he said, turning me to face him, and shaking the gun he held at my head as emphasis that I was, in fact, in danger "Does this look like a joke to ya?"

I sighed, looking between that gun and those lifeless eyes as I searched for my answer.

"You look a bit like a joke to me, probably because I prefer buzz cuts."

His eyes narrowed as he looked at me, probably searching for some sort of fear. I do admit that there was a bit of fear inside, but it was so overwhelmed with the desire to just have him pull that trigger that it didn't even have a fighting chance.

"C'mon," the man grumbled, securing my weapons around him before he took strong hold of my arm and tugged me back to his little camp—and the first one to greet me was the elderly man, followed by an Asian and some blonde that really looked like she needed to pull the stick out of her ass.

"Who's this?" The man asked, and I motioned to my not-quite-attractive captor.

"Hello, you ordered the meathead?" I was nudged, likely a warning to shut my mouth—which probably wouldn't happen.

"Found her at the tree line—"

"And you dragged me to your place without even introducing yourself," I tsked, completely cutting him off and acting as if what he said wasn't anything close to important.

"Is it too difficult for ya to shut the hell up?" I tugged my arm from his grip, and then turned to face him.

"Is it too difficult for you to avoid a pissing contest and allow a girl to pass through? Whether it'd be some live-action target practice or a waste of time and energy, I wasn't going to shoot you down or anything. This isn't your territory, so leave it be."

There was a lingering silence hanging over us, rearing its ugly head as I got into a staring contest with this prick. His head tilted the slightest bit, eyes narrowed, before this smug grin painted itself onto his lips.

"You aren't alone, are ya?" He said tauntingly, then instructing one of the men—Glenn was the name—to keep me here while he went off to find the group that I honestly believed I never hinted to.

I waited there for what seemed to be an eternity, my head resting against the side of the RV as I forced myself not to attack the older guy. His bewildered stare was grating on my nerves, challenging my self-control. I wouldn't let that fucking stare win, and that was a promise. My fists clenched and unclenched, just wishing that asshole would either come back with or without Annie and Cleo. Eventually the Asian went off to look for the man—who I'd learned was called Shane—and I was left in silence with that blonde woman holding her gun like it was meant to be some sort of threat.

"Who's this?" a woman with black hair appeared, her brown eyes scanning over me as she held back a young boy. She was followed with a woman boasting short, gray hair—and honestly, she looked like her dog had just died.

"Can we not go through this again?" My voice was more demanding than anything, despite the fact that I was the one being held captive.

"Did we even go through this in the first place?" the blonde challenged. I sighed, picking at the dirt caked into my nails when the muscle head returned with the rest of my group.

"About time."

"You guys, I'm really sorry if we came off as threatening to you," Cleo began, her palms flat and facing our captors in a sort of peacefulness, "We just ran out of gas and had to spend the night here." There was a long pause, one that Cleo obviously disliked. "I'm Cleo, that's Lillith, and this is my sister, Annabeth."

"You ruined the surprise," I muttered, pushing myself off of the RV and taking my bow and arrows off of the man without any hesitation. He seemed a bit surprised with my actions, which was probably the only reason why he allowed it.

And, of course, the men that went out to follow whatever came back then, looking my group and myself over in caution.

"Oh, great," I muttered, returning the glare that the brown-haired guy with the crossbow had fixated on me.

"She's not introducing us again," were my first words towards the group, quickly followed by a "So when can we leave?"

"We can't just let you go, you know where we are—how many men we have…" the capturer said, hand resting on the gun that now rest in its holster.

"Like I care about anything _you _have," I retorted, instinctively retrieving an arrow and setting it in place on my bow. Capturer noticed this, and he had his gun aimed on me just as fast as I had that arrow, fully extending the string of the bow, aimed right between his eyes at point blank range.

Cleo gasped softly, keeping the same gesture with the flat palms and all as she stepped between us.

"Like Lillith probably mentioned already, we were just passing through," she assured, ushering me towards the forest in which crossbow guy and the sheriff came from. I studied Capturer, realizing he was kept on a tight leash when the sherrif sent him a pointed look. That was when I put my bow back in the quiver, and turned my back on them to lead my group into the forest.


	3. Chapter 3

"You know, that was the second horde we've seen this week…" Cleo began, breaking the silence that remained thick and strong amongst us since we left that other group behind. I didn't answer her, my focus being on keeping warm throughout this dank, and utterly could Georgia night. We'd found a raised platform when trekking through the woods, and decided it was the perfect place to spend the night.

"Lillith, these things are outnumbering us—even worse than before…"

I remained silent. I didn't want to hear this, because I knew what it led to.

"Lillith, we can't survive like this anymore!" It was when her voice raised that I looked up, sending her a stern look to tell her to shut it.

"So you wanna go play house with those hicks?" I couldn't really help my voice coming off as accusing—which truly, I didn't care whether it was masked or not. Either way I got the point across.

"You know, it might be nice to have a family environment again, considering Annie hasn't had anyone her age to hang out with—"

"Well, we can't really have that anymore. Welcome to the end of the world—"

"You guys, please stop," Annie pleaded, breaking up the argument via crying. Personally, I believed Annie was one for dramatics—and yet Cleo, who knew Annie her whole life, wouldn't accept that. I sighed, and actually thought about what I was saying for once before speaking.

"There's a lot of farmland around here. We'll search through them and see if we can find anyone," I offered, and didn't leave space for objections. I simply laid down, and snuggled up under my blanket before either Cleo or Annie could object. I doubted we'd find anyone, the farms were probably all ransacked and overrun because of rowdy survivors—which meant I'd appear to have made and effort and still get my group moving forward.

It was the sunrise that woke me up, the natural and infinite hues of orange and yellow forcing me into consciousness. I stretched out and yawned, my back sore from sleeping on nothing but a platform of aged, chipping wood. I nudged Annie with my foot, and motioned for her to wake up Cleo. I didn't know if Cleo was still sore from our argument last night, and I didn't want to be the one to wake the sleeping bear.

We all ate a quick breakfast—water and some expired cereal—before gearing up and moving on. We checked to make sure we didn't leave too much evidence that someone was there last night, and quickly moved on before anyone managed to wander.

We'd marched on for hours on end, everyone having to share a single bottle of water under the incessant, agonizing heat. I quickly reminded myself that such was precisely why I despised the south—and, to be as good of a leader as possible—I made sure Cleo and Annie were hydrated first.

We reached some wooden fencing, having massive gaps and inconsistencies with a farmhouse in the distance. It was a relieving sight, excluding the fact that there was a mass of freaks basking in the glory of the farm that was. I looked back to Cleo and Annie, shaking my head and feigning disappointment before guiding us forward.

It was the next farm we found that appeared to be clear—to silent for my tastes. The blatant lack of freaks really appeared to boost everyone's hopes, and I grinded my teeth together to prevent myself from freaking out. I didn't need to be around many people, Annie and Cleo were all I needed to survive—but with the lingering risk of being abandoned if I didn't suit their needs was always hanging over me, which was why I forced myself to move forward.

I wasn't going to lose them.

We finished off our water just as the residents here rushed outside, the eldest of them wielding a rifle and pointing it straight at us.

"That's far enough," he warned, his eyes too soft for him to be prepared to shoot a living person down. I resisted the smirk that so desperately wanted to light up my expression, and lied without the slightest falter in my voice.

"I'm so sorry… There was a mass of them back there that split us from our group. We were chased off and we didn't know the land was occupied…" I spoke with this sort of desperation, so sickly false that it almost left a bad taste in my throat. That feeling was what told me I was doing well, and I studied the elderly man's expression. He was looking between us, and I noted his eyes then becoming fixated on Annie.

Annie looked horrible, her face coated in a layer of sweat and bags under her eyes. She was much paler than usual, a side effect of impending dehydration, and she looked like she was ready to simply give up on the world. I looked back to the man, ready to tackled Annie in happiness for her effect on him—whether she knew wht she was doing or not.

The old man caved, and motioned towards the house.

"Come on in, we'll get you some water…" He finally spoke, but stopped us when we reached the stairs. His eyes were set particularly on my bow, and from that I knew his words before he even said them "But leave your weapons at the door."

I was a few steps ahead of him, already resting my bow and arrows against the railing to set an example. I kept on the belt of knives that rested just under my shirt, just I case I needed to defend myself. I noted the cross on the wall in the front room, and opted on keeping to my nickname.

"I'm Lilly," I quickly introduced myself, forcing a smile and extending my hand to him. He shook my hand and returned the smile with one of those feeble, elderly grins that I could barely see past his beard.

"Hershel Greene," he introduced, stepping in front of the others, almost defensively.

'_His family,_' was my mind's instinctive response—and, considering the scrawny male kid was in no shape to fend off attackers, I took Hershel to be the man of the house.

He guided us into a dining room, and I seated myself next to Cleo. I watched as he poured us each a glass of water, and then he seated himself across from us. Casual conversation ensued, the kind that reminded me of my dysfunctional family life. My mother had died quickly after childbirth, which left me in the care of my extremely religious grandparents. It got to the point where they refused to call me Lillith, and read bible verses to put me to sleep at night. Needless to say, I didn't enjoy it at all.

A knock sounded at the door, followed by a familiar voice. I put my head in my hands upon hearing it, and readied myself for seeing these bozos once more.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: This chapter has a flashback. I'll put a "~" and write in italics to indicate when it occurs.**

I rested on the couch in utter silence, looking over at the meathead and the Asian—who I learned to be Shane and Glenn—as the echoes of Annie and Cleo screwing around outside pushed past the glass blockades entitled to be windows. My legs were crossed, lips pursing on occasion as Shane and I quickly entered another staring contest. He blinked after a while, and a smug grin plastered itself on my face. I won… Again…

"Funny how you keep showing up," Shane began, an attempt to make conversation—probably to try and figure me out, considering I hadn't given much information away.

"You say that as if this is all centered around you," I replied, quirking a brow in a teasing manner. Shane was boasting some oversized clothing from a man—now passed—who helped him get supplies for the kid. Evidently the kid—Carl—was shot in the stomach and there was this whole fiasco about getting him back to health when truly, Carl was better off being dead.

Shane had this strange vibe, though, one that unnerved me. It was the kind of sensation that had kids crawling into their parents' beds at night, once that made you cherish every breath you took.

He'd done something; I just wasn't quite sure what it was.

"Well, what Shane meant was that it's weird for us to meet again—"

"No it's not. You really think we'd be able to get that far away from you guys on foot?" I retorted, pushing myself off the couch and making my way outside. I was done speaking with these asshats…

… But release seemed impossible when I saw that fucking RV pulling in.

"Is this your group?" Hershel's voice startled me, and I cursed myself for letting someone sneak up on me.

"It could be," another voice chimed in—Rick's voice, to be exact. I turned to face them. "We saw the walkers you put down, you hit 'em right in the eye every time. We could use a shot like that 'round here…"

I opened my mouth to say no—and to question the term "walkers," whether it had a ring to it or not- but Cleo chimed in before I could muster a sound.

"We'd love to, our group is probably long gone by now and we couldn't possibly do this alone."

_Yeah, actually, we could. You guys _do _have me…_

Of course Annie nodded in agreement with Cleo, but evidently my lack of response wasn't a satisfactory answer. Rick looked at me, those blue eyes practically pleading, as if he wanted to make me feel bad. I didn't show any sort of break when it came to my blank stare, but I did send Rick a half-assed nod before Cleo and Annie smiled reluctantly. Hershel had already disappeared, which I wasn't sure whether to be thankful or annoyed with.

"Rick lemme ask you somethin'," Shane interrupted, his eyes burning with certain anger as he glared at me. I smiled dryly and watched, ecstatic to see Rick assert himself and put the meathead in his place, "Did we ever accept people with authority issues and who didn't play well with others into the force?"

_So he was a cop…_

"That question suggests you have authority in the situation to begin with," I chimed in, almost singsong as I rubbed the fact into his face. He obviously seemed sore about it, which only added to my satisfaction when I brought it up. Rick sent me this look, one that told me I wasn't quite the boss anymore, and I held my hands up in surrender before walking off. Rick asserting his power over me as well didn't settle well in my stomach, and because of it I didn't want to see the rest of that argument.

"You again?" The blonde stepped out of the RV, stunned to see me. Her hand went to rest on the holster of her gun—a warning—and she stopped but a few feet in front of me.

"You know, as a new member of the group I'm pretty disheartened by your blatant lack of trust—"

"Wait, what?"

"Blondie no friendly," my voice was slowed, dripping with sarcasm upon every syllable spoken as I motioned to the gun she was ready to pull on me, "I new member of groupie." She scoffed, stunned by my disrespect.

"I'll be friendly when you cut the bullshit and show me some respect."

"Respect is earned, so I wouldn't get my hopes up."

After that exchange, groups were organized to go out looking for a girl names Sophia. I managed to get the details of it, how she was the reason a few stragglers in that horde went off into the woods. She was still missing and, despite everyone's hopes that she was still alive and kicking, police began looking for a body after a few days.

What I didn't like was how willing Cleo was to go out and look. But, because of her desperate need to be around people, I didn't have the power to speak my mind about it. I wasn't responsible for her, anymore. Rick was.

I offered to keep watch with the older guy, Dale.

Keeping watch had a wonderful silence to it, and I made it clear to Dale that I wasn't one for conversation. Dale was looking around with the binoculars as I got used to having my bow once more. Rick trusted my aim, which was why I got to ignore the rifle. I ran my hands over the smooth grain of the bow, occasionally ensuring that Annie was safe for Cleo's sake.

Hours passed, the sun working through the regular motions as it creeped its way across the sky. It was a nice break from always having to move. Whether I wanted to admit it or not, I really did need this.

But then it all happened at once.

I saw Glenn and the blondie—Andrea—rushing back, both of them running a body closer to camp. I couldn't get a good look at whoever it was, but the fact that Cleo wasn't running with them already put me on edge.

"Oh, no," was Dale's response as he looked through the binoculars.

Shane and Daryl—the crossbow country hick—followed suit, their eyes shifting from me, to the body, and then to Annabeth—who was standing on the porch and holding a mask of utter terror on her features. I climbed down from the RV, readying an arrow as I approached them. I was probably 10 feet away when they set the body down, and I froze at the sight.

Cleo was laying there, blood staining her clothes and smeared across her body. She was sobbing, her breathing erratic as a thin layer of sweat coated her forehead. Immediately, my eyes went cold. The emotionless mask I'd built up over the months hid any sort of hint to my pain at seeing Cleo like this. I kneeled down next to her, and that's when I saw the bite mark, festering and ravaging her body with a torrent of fever that I knew wouldn't take long to turn her. I didn't think twice about tearing a chunk out of my shirt, revealing my set of throwing knives, to cover up the wound. Annabeth didn't need to see the bite.

"Annie!" I called, knowing any last words needed to be said then and there. Cleo couldn't turn, I wouldn't allow it.

"Cleo?" Annabeth sobbed, falling onto her knees beside her sister. Cleo tried to pull herself together, then, probably to get her sister to be strong. I got up, walking over to Shane and shamelessly taking his pistol from the holster. I really didn't have time for embarrassments because I'd reached for a gun that was too close to his crotch for my tastes.

I refused to listen to their goodbyes; I didn't need to hear it. There was already enough going through my mind to process their hysterics. I waited until they were simply crying, then, before I pushed Annie away. I didn't bother asking anyone to hold her back, it's not like Annie would be the only one to watch her family die.

I wasn't sure how to react when Cleo began her goodbyes with me, telling me to look after Annie and how thankful she was to have found me. I just remained stoic, nodding and forcing a smile. Cleo closed her eyes when she was done, holding my hand and awaiting the gunshot to send her on her merry afterlife. My hand wrapped around the handle, and I aimed for her temples

_Evie was smiling as she looked up at me, those brilliant, blue eyes full of life and happiness upon seeing her mother. It only brought more tears to my eyes, demanding me to regret the decision I forced myself to be stuck on. Evie couldn't face the horrors of this new world, I wasn't going to let her suffer as I was meant to._

_This world was my punishment, not hers._

"_Mama," she cooed, reaching out for me with her lips curling back into a beautiful little smile._

"_Mommy loves you, little Evie," I murmured, just loud enough for her to hear—not that she'd understand until she was dead and gone._

_I pressed the gun at her temple, running my free hand over her soft cheek one last time before I pulled the trigger…_

_BANG_!


End file.
